So, here I am, wondering why I'm not surfing porn, and getting answered by the endless talkative sirens outside. What matters your mind when so many other minds think for you? Truman Show indeedy! More like... The fugitive. The mind fugitive. What a pleasure this world would be if only I could dream my own dreams.
Instead, I surf endlessly Alex Jones and David Icke and I take it to heart that the Evil Empire is out there to suck my soul. But then, last night, I drempt of none other than the black guy from DRIVING MISS DAISY cutting off my arm with an axe in a room full of dignitaries and movie-stars after some seriously screwy action with Michael Jackson, some kid and a fourth person who I don't remember. What dreams Hollywood brings into my crazy-head.
So much for dreaming!
I actually woke up startled at the dream. It was so fucking realistic. Morgan Freeman was inside this cabin and I came in from the snow. I felt the axe bite into my right arm, right about where my tattoo is. When he went for my middle finger next, that's when I woke up.
Life is such a weird trip. Coming out of Mexico with Homeland Security sequestering me at the Embassy and then at the border. I kinda expected this attention,I suppose. From 2001 on down. But it's weird. It makes life dream-like. Never know who is hidding behind the wall.
It's okay. I have entered into a resignation period in my madness. I am not like other folk, so I can expect always the worst. Those dudes in jail were gonna kill me. That's real shit. No makeup. No Hollywood crews. That's real bad dudes who kill people, trying to kill me or at least hurt me badly.
Oddly, I'm still out here, doing my thing. Now I can only wonder how will it all end?
1. With 2012 being a huge dud... My life winding down into ordinary old age, sickness and death and maybe helping out a little bit my family.
2. With chaos - utter chaos!
I don't suppose I would change my actions either way. I am okay with who I am. Neither God nor Devil nor ... just ordinary human being, trying to find the truth.
My 'winning strategy' is to prepare for the worst. What is the worst that could happen to me? Jail sounds pretty bad. But it's bearable. Violent death? Nobody can prepare for that, I reckon. Public disgrace. Folks who actually know me, will exhonerate me always. Madness... Well isn't that what I am living now?
Mexico... The border. All that shit. Well, lets just say that if I were an opportunist and an asshole, I could get seriously into the whole mess 'on the side of the Mexicans' because I know they are going to win. But do I want to 'be on the winning side' of a conflict that is just plain stupid on both sides?
A real victory would be a simple dissolution of the border because we have all reached a critical mass of enlightenment. Fat chance of that in South Carolina.
Chaos is a very personal thing. I call myself 'chaotic good' because I really don't believe in laws or sins or any kind taboos but I also don't think folks should spent too much energy hurting each other. Such a definition of my person helps me ... or does it?
Is there a Lawful Good religious nut hidden somewhere deep in my brain? And if he is truly 'Lawful' - does it not make sense that he would be the anthesis of my chaotic good persona which is actually Lawful Evil? What does it mean, anyhow to be Lawful Evil? It means to follow dogma to it's worst conclusions... ie: "thou shall not suffer a witch to live". Or even worse: "Hearts and Souls for Kukulkan!".
By following Chaos I am not pulled into a definition of my reality that stifles possibility. Pederasty, Sodomy, Zoophilia... All of these can 'more or less' fall into a Chaotic-Good persona so long as no goats are hurt during film-making.
Or...
Am I just so full of shit that it stinks up all the way to Heaven?
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